


Worn Thin

by Moit



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Prostitution, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moit/pseuds/Moit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU--After Orlando blows his audition for Lord of the Rings, he ends up turning tricks on the streets of London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worn Thin

He cocked his hips, allowing the thin material of his shirt to ride up, showing off the golden colour of his skin. He might not be able to pay for nice clothes—he was lucky enough to pay the rent—but lying in the sun was free. It was one of the few pleasures still afforded to him. 

The man kept walking, so Orli hitched his shirt up a bit higher, enough to show off the sun tattoo he’d gotten when he was still part of the club scene. He’d thought he had it all back then, before the money ran out and his prestigious Guildhall degree became just a piece of paper signifying his failure at becoming a “real” actor. 

He’d blown the best show he’d ever had—trying out for Faramir in a New Zealand production of The Lord of the Rings—by getting pissed off his face the night before. He slept right through the audition, and by the time he got to the theatre, the director was already gone. Some Australian bloke ended up with the part, but Orli was more upset that he’d missed the opportunity to work with names like Christopher Lee, Ian McKellen, and Sean Bean. Even Sean Astin and Elijah Wood would have been exciting. 

Plenty of unknowns got their break with the trilogy, too, so Orli couldn’t even bring himself to watch them. Ryan Gosling also played the poncy elf, Legolas, and that was enough of an excuse to avoid the films. 

So, when his savings ran out, Orli began to turn tricks. He didn’t have any other skills, and it wasn’t hard to pretend he liked have sex with strangers. He was an actor, after all. 

His surprise was nearly tangible, then, when he was approached by a guy whose nearby “friend” turned out to be Frodo Baggins himself. 

“He’s a little nervous, yeah? It’s his first time. And he’s American.” 

Orli worried too much about losing the trick to let it slip that he recognized the young actor. “I like Yanks.” After years of living in London, Orli’s accent had lost its soft Kent lilt and devolved into hard-edged Cockney. 

“How much?” the blond man asked. 

Orli licked his lips slowly. “Twenty quid for a suck. Fifty for a fuck.” 

“You’re cheap.” 

“I’m a whore.” 

The blond man looked at Elijah, who shrugged in response. “You have a place, mate?”

“Around the corner.” Orli headed down the street. He didn’t check to see if Elijah and his friend were following; he could hear their footsteps. 

He hated taking Johns back to his home, but with a severely limited income, he had no choice. The fear that one of the men would rob him was visceral; it was yet another of the issues he dealt with daily. 

“If you want anything other than to watch, it’s going to cost extra,” Orli said as he pulled off his threadbare shirt. His jeans went next. Wearing a belt would have slowed him down, but he couldn’t afford one anyway. “How would you like me?” 

“Hands and knees,” Elijah said, speaking for the first time. His voice was lower than Orli had expected; the timbre was steadier, more secure. 

Obediently, Orli crawled onto his bed. He didn’t ask for lube or condoms—didn’t need either—but he heard Elijah opening a packet, anyway. A moment later, cold stubby fingers settled on Orli’s hips. 

“Is this okay?” Elijah breathed into his ear. Orli could smell the tang of beer. 

“Yes.” 

The blunt head of Elijah’s cock pressed against his hole, and Orli lowered his chest to the bed to give his John better access. 

It was over quickly. No sense in holding back when you’re fucking a hooker, anyway. 

Elijah tucked himself back into his trousers while his friend handed over Orli’s payment: two crisp hundred pound notes. 

At Orli’s look of confusion, Elijah said, “You’re too pretty to be turning tricks. Best of luck, man.” 

Elijah and his friend disappeared out the door, and not for the first time, Orli’s heart ached for the life he could have had. 

 

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> Dom is never explicitly named because he never gives his name to Orlando.


End file.
